Salvation of an Amnesiac
by Balin Lord of Moria
Summary: AU. Niënor wanders the forest of Brethil, nude, full of wonder and fear, set up by a dragon to bring about her own doom. But this time, some of the Valier, led by Nienna the Weeper, seek to save her from her bleak destiny. One mourner saves another mourner with her tears of hope. Niënor's slightly OOC. Rated T for nudity.


**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Silmarillion or any of its characters; they are the property of the Tolkien Estate.

* * *

One wonders what it is like to have total amnesia.

Niënor, daughter of Húrin and sister of Túrin, was one of the few who knew what it felt like firsthand.

What she didn't know, though, was that that day, history, namely her history, was going to change forever.

She had absolutely no idea what had happened. It was like a void, through which no knowledge or memory came. Initially, all she knew was that someone, or something, was touching her hand and leading her… somewhere. She could not see anything, hear anything, or say anything. All she could do was feel the hand that was pulling her, and the clothes on her back, though she had no idea what they were, either.

At one point, it felt as if she was being put down on something flat, and without knowing what was happening, she fell asleep. Then, there were terrible sounds, like of foul creatures clamoring about nearby. It was at this point that she suddenly recovered both hearing and sight. She woke up. No longer remembering the courage of a child of Húrin she once possessed, Niënor abruptly got up and ran away, and with a sudden burst of speed that astonished even her, she ran alone into the nearby forest, away from those terrible noises.

It was chaos. She ran like mad, her hair streaming in the wind of her speed. Feeling encumbered by them, and perhaps for some other reason she couldn't fathom, she began to strip herself of all her clothes as she ran, casting away her cloak, her boots, her pants, her undergarments, until she was as nude as the day she was born. She continued to run for a very long time, her heart pounding, her bare feet almost not touching the ground because she was so fast.

At last, as it was getting dark out, Niënor stopped running and stood still, panting heavily. Then, when she caught her breath, she suddenly fainted and fell into a ditch. Fortunately, there was soft vegetation there, and for the rest of the night, she slept soundly.

* * *

In Valinor, on the far west side, wherein were the Halls of Nienna, Nienna the Weeper could see what the dreaded beast Glaurung had done to poor Niënor, an innocent young woman who was almost a namesake of the mighty Valie, made into a victim of amnesia, with the intent to use her as a means to fulfill Morgoth's curse against the children of Húrin. While Nienna was not as knowledgeable about the future as her brother, Mandos, or his spouse, Vairë, she realized at that moment what Glaurung had in mind, for Niënor's brother, Túrin, was not far away, and she had originally come to seek out her brother with her missing mother, Morwen. The dragon wanted Túrin and Niënor, who would both fail to recognize each other, to fall in love and have a relationship of incest, which would mark them forever as cursed by life and death, as well as cursing life and death themselves. Then the Dark Lord would have his revenge on Húrin, and yet another heartless tragedy would befall Middle-earth.

This brought much grief to Nienna's ever-crying eyes, but at that moment, she wished that there was something she could do about it. She did not know if she could, though, for the Valar had sworn that they would take no part in the affairs of Middle-earth after the rebellion of the Noldor and the Kinslaying. Still, she wondered if there was any more subtle way that she, and possibly some of the other Valar and/or Maiar, could save Niënor and her brother from this approaching doom. For "Niënor" had a meaning very similar to "Nienna." Niënor meant, _mourning,_ and Nienna meant, _she who weeps._ And Nienna the Weeper felt so honored that a beautiful child of the Aftercomers would stand for the same thing in life that she did.

Nienna asked to have a talk with the other Valar, something which surprised most of them, because Nienna seldom came to the city of Valimar, where many of the Ainur and Elves lived, and all was glad. Mandos did not entirely approve of Nienna's concern, stating that no matter how tragic the events taking place in Middle-earth were, their kind could not change the wheels of time and destiny themselves. Manwë felt similarly, but said that they should ask for the word of Eru to see if it was his will. So Nienna wept as she offered a prayer to the One who created all, and she alone heard the voice of Eru as he gave his answer.

The others, however, could guess what the answer was when she smiled gratefully and offered praise and thanks to Him. Wiping her eyes daintily, she looked all the Valar in the eye and said, "The One commands it."

Nienna went on to say that no direct involvement could be taken in this affair, though, for the Valar were not to return to Middle-earth at this point. But he did say that Nienna and some of the other Valier should use their God-given talents to influence the forest of Brethil, where Niënor now slept, for the sacred feminine should be those who helped the women of the race of Men. Vairë and Estë said that their places were in the Halls of Mandos and the gardens of Lórien, respectively, so they could do nothing. Varda said she had to stay on Taniquetil with her spouse, Manwë, and attend to her own duties. Yavanna, Vána, and Nessa, however, did offer their services to Nienna's little cause, and for the rest of that night, them discussed how to use their powers to save she who was named, "mourning."

* * *

In the morning, Niënor awoke from her slumber. Sunlight was shining on her, warming her body. She looked around and saw all kinds of tall, green giants all around her, as well as a strange blue canopy up above her with that blinding yellow object shining down on her and the giants. Funny looking little things fluttered about, singing merrily, covered in bright colors she couldn't remember the names of.

It took her breath away. She could not remember seeing such beauty before. Among the very few things she remembered were her instincts, and her instincts inspired her to grin unabashedly and raise her arms to the sky. She tried to dance in her joy, but it was clumsy and badly remembered.

Then, as she tried to remember what had happened to her before this morning, she recalled a shadow of vague fear, like a darkness had been trying to overtake her. For a few moments, she forgot her joy and shivered in fear even in the warmth of the sun she couldn't name. Indeed, she couldn't think of names for anything around her, though that was largely due to her forgetting how to speak, or how to think intelligently. She was not stupid, by any means, merely struck mute and confused, and she did not know whether to pass the time enjoying the beautiful sights around her, or to panic and run away from the darkness again. The darkness had not caught up to her yet, though, and she decided to explore the countryside.

So Niënor, maiden of mourning, began her journey through the forest of Brethil. Everything seemed new and strange to her, and she couldn't get enough of it. She gazed with amazement at the green giants and was comforted by the rays of the (to her) nameless sun. It was strange, but when she had been running through the woods, as well as when she first awoke beneath the canopy, she had felt cold and shivery. Now, though, the sun never seemed to go behind a cloud, and she felt like a warm friend was comforting her. Of course, she couldn't understand how that hot yellow thing in the sky could be a friend, but she guessed with her few remaining memories and instincts that perhaps it was something that was taking pity on her, a helpless, innocent amnesiac. Nevertheless, although the animals were fascinating too, more often than not, the little things would make sudden sharp noises, like a snap of a twig or brushing through grass or fallen leaves when they ran, and she would hide in fear, timorously gazing around until she was sure that whatever had made that noise was gone. She had to do this more times than she could count, if she could remember how to, that is.

After going in one direction for a little less than two hours, she was attracted to a sight even more beautiful than she had already seen. She saw even brighter colors coming from the ground in front of her, and she looked down. Behold! Before her were a whole host of many colored things that seemed to consist of a thin green thing with a bump on the end and rounded things of the loveliest shades of color she had seen just yet. Dazzled by their loveliness, she knelt down and plucked one of them, and it smelled so sweet! Slowly she became aware that those bright little things that sang songs were flying about the flowers and around her. Startled, she cried out and tried to run, but somehow, the birds and flowers (for that was what they were) seemed to captivate her and convince her to stay. They acted like they were attempting to befriend her, and the birds looked like they were concerned about something. It was then that she noticed what it was that had attracted their attention.

Evidently, while she had been running through the woods the night before, she had passed too close to some low-hanging tree branches and thorns, and they had torn her skin in several places. There was a dry red substance clotting each wound. She didn't understand how she could have missed it. She gasped as she realized she was even more vulnerable than she thought she was before. However, the birds attracted her attention to another plant growing with the sweet-smelling flowers. Niënor did not know it, but she had stumbled upon a plant that was an ancestor to the renowned _Athelas_ healing plant that would be held dear by the Númenorians and the Dúnedain ages later. Taking one of the plants, she stared at it in puzzlement. She crushed it, thinking it useless, but a sweet-smelling juice came out of the leaves, and a little of it dripped on a cut on her arm. She cried out as it stung for a second, but then the wound began to mend itself as the juices poured over it.

Astonished again, Niënor had no idea what she had just stumbled upon, but she so wanted to stop this bleeding, and she bathed herself in the plant's juices, soon giving herself a full healing of her body.

She tried to whistle the songs of the birds as she continued to walk, possibly as a way of showing gratitude and "goodbye." After this, she walked on, and on, until she came at last to her first view of water. She didn't know it, but she had just stumbled upon the river Teiglin. All she knew was that there was a clear, fluid substance before her, and though she couldn't remember its name, her instincts told her that this was water, and that she needed to drink it to survive.

Crouching down in front of the edge of the stream, Niënor was surprised, then moved, to see the beautiful woman reflected in the water. She waved her hands in various directions, as well as dipping her bare foot into the water, and then she realized she was looking at herself. She began to remember a few things, not only about her body, but also about how she was such a beautiful creature, and as she stared in wonder, it occurred to her that something must have made her that way, or someone. She touched each part of her nude body as she watched herself do so. Most striking of all to her were her tall height and golden hair, like she had been made as something very grand.

Remembering her thirst, Niënor bent down and cupped some water in her hands, drinking deeply. The water was very refreshing and pure, even for river water. If she could remember the word "miracle," she would have thought this was one for this river being here, where she wandered aimlessly, and she smiled gratefully.

She took a seat by the river and looked around. Worry was starting to return to her, for she hadn't found any food, and she didn't know how to find it or prepare it, and she was quite famished by now after all her running and walking. But suddenly, on the other side of the river, hanging from one of the green giants that had been amazing her all this time were some red and green somethings that she could smell, and they smelled almost as good as the flowers and the healing plants had. They were fruits, though she didn't know that, but she suspected that they were something she could eat, and as soon as she found a way across the river, she quickly took one and started eating it.

It felt so good to satisfy her hunger, as she ate that fruit and one other fruit from the same tree, and for several long moments, she felt a little better again. But at that moment, she became aware that it was getting dark outside, and she feared that the darkness she had previously ran away from was catching up to her. She didn't know where to go, and she cowered and cringed where she stood.

It was indeed a storm coming from out of the south, not exactly the darkness she had fled from, but she didn't know that. She only knew that it was getting dark, and it frightened her, for the warmth of the sun had been so comforting, and now she was becoming cold again under the clouds.

But at that moment, a host of strange animals came bounding through the woods, running in the direction away from the storm. The mysterious beasts were deer, of course. Niënor was initially afraid of them, too, but her instincts told her that they might have been running away from danger, and having freshly eaten and drank, she ran as fast as she could, struggling to keep up with the fast creatures. They ran for up to ten minutes, until they suddenly broke off and seemed to disappear. Niënor cried out as if begging them not to leave her alone, but they were quite gone.

The first thing she saw was a green mound next to her. She flung herself down on it, for she was spent, and even her instincts couldn't tell her what to do next. The storm arrived, and the thunder and lightning exploded around her. She wept and blubbered in cowardly fear as the rain smote her beautiful nudity.

But she was in for a surprise. As terrifying as the thunder and lightning were, the rain that washed over her felt almost soothing, despite the hard pressure with which it fell on her. She watched without words like a trapped wild beast, and all of a sudden, she heard a memory, just one memory, return to her unbidden, as if it had come with the storm or the rain.

"NIËNOR!" she shouted awkwardly. She had remembered who she was, and she had remembered how to say her name, too.

* * *

It was then that a company of the woodmen of Brethil came to a nearby shelter after a foray with some Orcs, and the man who led them, Túrin Turambar, looked to the mound of his dead former lover, Finduilas. It looked from where he stood as if a wraith was lying on the mound, but one of his men took a closer look, and discovered it was a living woman lying there. Turambar hurried over and lifted her as she swooned into near unconsciousness, and marveling that she was naked, he cast his cloak about her before carrying her to the hunter's lodge. There they lit a fire and wrapped coverlets around her, warming her up. Then she awoke, and saw the men's faces gazing at her face. When she saw Turambar, she felt something like gladness, for it seemed like she had found someone whom she had been searching for in the darkness.

Turambar smiled at her and asked, "Now, milady, might you tell us your name and your kin, and what evil has befallen you?"

She shook her head, meaning she couldn't speak of the evil, but she tried to remember how to speak out what she said before. Turambar decided to give her some time while he and his men gave her some food to eat. She ate hungrily, for while the fruit had sated her hunger before, her run with the deer had used much of her newfound energy up. Turambar let her to a bed, and she lay down. Then, while they were alone, he asked her again who she was and where she came from. She worked her mouth, trying to remember how to utter words, and finally, she stuttered, "Niënor, daughter of Húrin."

Turambar's eyes opened wide, and he said, "Sister? You are my sister?"

She looked at him, confused.

"Do not tell anyone here, not right now, but I am Túrin, son of Húrin," he whispered quietly.

Niënor then remembered one more word. "Brother?"

* * *

As the days went by, Niënor began to recover her memory of her speech and her talents, and the old courage of the children of Húrin soon returned to her, too. Because of his secret identity in Brethil, Túrin publicly called Niënor "Níniel," _"tear maiden,"_ so the others wouldn't know of their being siblings. Brandir the lame helped Turambar take care of the so-named Níniel, and they began to fall in love. In time, Niënor and Brandir were wed, and Túrin gave them his blessing.

And far away in Valinor, Arien, the Sun, Uinen of the calm waters, Vána, who cared for the flowers and birds, Yavanna, Giver of Fruits, Nessa and her deer, and Nienna, whose tears fell like rain, rejoiced in the hope that a terrible tragedy may have been averted.


End file.
